


Rainy Days

by VampyrePrince



Series: Unrequited [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 16:39:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1175359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampyrePrince/pseuds/VampyrePrince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a rainy day in London, and Sherlock sends John a text to meet him at the flat for some help on casework. Needless to say, they end up forgetting about the work. RST</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rainy Days

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry for all the angst that has been in this series! Here, have some smut for this part. It will cheer everyone up. As Mary had previously said in one of the earlier parts, it's been a long time coming :)

The next week Sherlock and John spent together was one of the better they'd had as of late. They'd managed to solve a rather complex case dealing with, what was thought to be, paranormal activity (in the end it had turned out to be an elaborate hoax to hoard money from vulnerable clients). They went out to dinner a few times, once with Mary and the other alone. What Sherlock enjoyed most out of it all was the simple fact that things were starting to become normal again since the tension had left the air around him and John. They'd had no more fights, no more awkward moments; they were perfectly happy in each other's company once again and without any odd moments of sexual pressure.

That is, until one rainy afternoon when John decided to visit Sherlock to help out with a new case.

The rain was pouring down on the streets of London and traffic was awful. The sky was a dark, murky gray and everyone was rushing about with umbrellas, newspapers, and hats pulled tight in an attempt to keep dry. It was one of those days that sucked every last bit of energy out of you until the only thing that mattered was a hot beverage and a comfy bed or sofa, and maybe a book. Definitely not a day for casework, but the weather didn't matter to Sherlock. When he was onto something, Hell could freeze over before he would take a glance outside.

John came stomping up the stairs into the flat, his shoes squeaking and leaving wet puddles in his path. He apologized to Mrs. Hudson before reaching the top of the stairway to see the door wide open. He stood silent as he watched Sherlock typing away on his laptop, clearly unaware that John had just trudged through rain to answer a simple text from the other side of London. The doctor licked his lips and shifted his stance, clearing his throat loudly until the detective finally looked up from his work.

“Oh, John. Good of you to come.” Sherlock smiled and watched his friend as he shrugged off his soaking coat, his hair still dripping rain water down his forehead. The very sight sent a shiver through Sherlock's body, and it took everything to remain sitting and just observing. He had promised himself that he would go easier on John, let the doctor make the next move. His previous methods certainly weren't working anyway.

John made his way into the back of the flat near the restroom where he grabbed a towel and dried his face in the mirror, noticing the sound of footsteps approaching behind him. He turned around to see Sherlock standing there, watching him with interest. After a moment of the awkward silence John attempted to focus on something else, resting his eyes on the bathmat. “So, tell me why I just made my way through a torrent of rain to have you stand there and stare at me.”

“That wasn't the reason. It was just a perk.” John glanced up at the detective to see him grinning, and he lightened up a bit. Right, he'd nearly forgot about that. They hadn't kissed or been intimate in any way since their last fight, but the way Sherlock was staring at him in that moment was a sign that the detective was becoming impatient.

“Sherlock, you promised that the next time anything happened it would be my decision.”

“I haven't even done anything... Yet.” He started to laugh, but quickly suppressed it as John stared at him seriously.

“You were giving me that look. I know that look.”

“So I can't even look at you without you becoming suspicious?”

“You look like you're ready to eat me alive.”

“Quite close to the truth, unfortunately.” 

A silence fell between them for some time before John focused fully on Sherlock, his breath becoming short in their close proximity. Had the bathroom always been that small? So suffocating? Either that or it was just the fact that his shirt was slightly wet and clinging to his body, as were his jeans. He realized that he probably looked absolutely wrecked from the weather, and that wasn't helping his situation. Unfortunately he hadn't a change of clothes, so he was looking at two options: remain in wet clothing and feel uncomfortable for the entirety of the visit, or-

“Your clothes are quite wet, John. You're likely to catch cold if you don't change into something else.”

“I don't have anything else.” Sherlock bit his lip and stepped closer to John, taking the towel from his hands. 

“That's what these are made for.” His voice had taken on that low, sultry tone that shot straight to John's cock, which was starting to respond to the sexual tension that was building quickly in the room. This was the day, then. This was the day that John finally decided to make the move he had been so hesitant about. He was sure this time at least about one thing, and that was kissing. He actually really liked that bit and it was innocent enough. 

“Right. Um, could you, you know, leave the room or turn around or something?” Sherlock quirked an eyebrow and pulled the towel out of John's reach.

“We're both men, and I've seen you partially naked before.”

“Don't remind me, please. I'm still coming to terms with that part of the deal.” 

“Regardless it's fact. Now, what are you waiting for?” 

“Since when in the hell did you become so openly sexual?”

“Since I met you.” 

“... Okay. Alright I suppose that would make sense considering.” John took a deep breath and unbuttoned his vest, shrugging it onto the ground before beginning on his shirt buttons. He blushed as he noticed Sherlock's intense gaze locking onto every movement he made, the towel still clenched firmly in the detective's long fingers. He had a feeling he was going to have to work to get a hold of that damn towel.

John continued, each button popping out slowly until the shirt was peeled off and dropped to the ground, the doctor now feeling very naked even though he was still clad in his jeans and socks. He had noticed Sherlock's chest rising and falling heavier as his breathing quickened, no doubt his self control beginning to slip as he watched his love interest disrobe before him. There was something about being in control of the situation that made the detective hot, the fact that he was the one holding the very thing that John was being made to work for. A power trip of sorts, and it was something Sherlock planned on getting used to.

“Sherlock, I don't think I can do this. Please, just give me the towel.” The taller man closed the distance between them, brushing his lips against John's as he slid a hand between them to the button on the doctor's jeans.

“Then why don't I help you?”

“Oh god...”

“I don't mind the sound of that.” John leaned into him, kissing him softly and then harder as the detective teased him, tugging at the waist of his jeans and circling his thumb around the button before he finally pulled it open with one hard tug. They remained close, their noses brushing as they stared into each other's eyes, the sound of John's zipper echoing in the quiet bathroom as Sherlock pulled it down slowly. 

“I believe,” John drew in a sharp breath as Sherlock slid his hand down his pants, “that _this_ is the craziest thing we've ever done.” He closed his eyes and groaned into Sherlock's mouth as their lips met once more. He rocked his hips into the detective's hand, which was now gripping his cock and working it out of his pants. It was so much more pleasant this way without the arguing and confusion. This time the doctor would allow himself to give into the forbidden pleasures his friend wanted, and he wouldn't run.

Sherlock backed John against the bathroom counter and slid his hands around to the doctor's arse, slipping them down the back of his jeans and pressing into him. He was already achingly hard. “Sit on the counter.”

John's panic began to surface and he broke away from their series of kisses. “No.”

“Why?”

“I know what you want to do, and I'm not okay with that.” Sherlock rested his head on John's shoulder and groaned in frustration. 

“Then what will you have me do?” John grinned and lifted Sherlock's face to meet his.

“You sit on the counter.” For a moment Sherlock seemed to be caught off guard, his stare becoming blank and then refocusing. 

“You want... you want me to be the one who...”

“That's the only way I'll agree.” John spun them around and reversed their position, watching Sherlock carefully as he stiffened. “Weren't expecting that?”

“I'll admit no, no I wasn't.”

“Are you complaining?” John unhooked the button to Sherlock's jacket, then pulled his shirt from his pants where it was tucked in. “Because we could stop all of this. I can go either way.”

“No this is fine. This is... good.” The detective had lost control of the situation, which is something he hadn't counted on. So far John had been rather submissive, but it seemed when the doctor was at ease he was quite the opposite. Sherlock hadn't had many sexual experiences in his life, but the few he did have he had been in complete control. This was going to be new, possibly even quite fun. And it was John. He would have never expected this from John.

Sherlock managed to come back to his senses as his shirt fell to the floor along with his jacket, his eyes once again fixating on John. He placed his hands on either side of John's face, pulling him into a deep kiss and biting his lip as the doctor quite nearly ripped open his trousers. He moaned loudly as he dropped one of his hands behind him to grip the counter, the sensation of John's hand on his fully erect cock causing him to shiver as his legs threatened to crumble beneath him. “J-John!”

“Is this what you fantasize about? Me doing these things to you?” John had dropped his voice to a whisper, running his lips along Sherlock's neck up to his ear where he bit down gently. The detective clenched his teeth to keep from moaning out again, staring down at John with heavily lidded eyes.

“Yes.”

“What else do I do to you in these fantasies?” Sherlock ran his free hand up through John's hair, putting pressure on his head. 

“Get on your knees.” The doctor sunk low until his knees hit the hard tiled floor, his hands taking Sherlock's pants and trousers with him. His face grew red hot as he watched a small string of come leak from the head of Sherlock's cock, his eyes glancing up to find the detective watching him as he leaned back against the counter. “You've never done this before.” He was completely breathless.

“Do you want me to?”

“Obviously.” Sherlock grabbed a fistful of John's hair until it shot pain across his scalp, a high pitched moan echoing off the walls as John took his cock into his mouth. The detective pressed his arse into the counter to keep from thrusting himself down John's throat as his eyes rolled back and he closed them, the sensation of the doctor's tongue sliding around his cock shattering every bit or reason in his brain. He wasn't going to last long. He could already feel the wonderful burn approaching. “John stop, oh god John!” 

The doctor slid back up his body, their lips meeting before Sherlock was lifted onto the counter top. The detective threw his arms around John's shoulders, watching him as he dropped the rest of his clothing to the floor. “Got any lube?” Sherlock kicked the cupboard below them with his foot.

“Not going to run after this?” John leaned over and grabbed the bottle, coming back up and squirting some in his hand.

“Not even completely sure if I'm comfortable with it.”

“Then why are you doing it?” The doctor set the bottle beside them and ran his hand down Sherlock's cock, gaining a shudder in response, then slipped a finger inside when he reached his arse.

“Because right now, I want to.” John gripped himself tightly as he moved his finger, adding a second as soon as he found Sherlock's prostate. The detective threw his head back against the wall, moaning and rocking his hips against John's hand before it was pulled away. “Are you sure you want this?”

“John, just fuck me.” John's cock twitched as he heard Sherlock curse, the word sounding foreign coming from the detective’s mouth. God it turned him on. He tried to test things a bit further.

“How bad do you want it?” The doctor shoved his cock against Sherlock's arse, causing him to rock his hips impatiently. The detective smirked and brought his legs to rest around John's back.

“I want you to shove your cock into my arse and fuck me until my entire body goes numb. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Oh, you aren't going to be walking tomorrow.” John grabbed Sherlock's hips, pulling him to the edge and slowly slid inside, tensing as he reached halfway to get used to the tightness gripping around him. Sherlock groaned in pain as John slid even deeper, digging his heels into the doctor's back as he finally slid all the way in. “Alright?” 

Sherlock nodded and opened his eyes that had been closed, leaning forward as much as his body would allow and placing a kiss on John's lips before laying back against the wall again. John leaned forward, using his hands for support on the counter as he drew out and then back in, thrusting faster and harder each time. They both very quickly lost their even pace and focused solely on release, Sherlock reaching down to take one of John's hands and wrapping it around his cock. “Make me come.”

John slowed to allow Sherlock to move, the detective rocking his slender hips on John's cock as he came closer and closer to his release. “Fuck Sherlock... Come for me.”

Sherlock stilled and repeated John's name as he came all over the doctor's hand, whimpering as John thrust into him again, hitting his prostate to intensify the euphoria that was coursing through his veins. It didn't take much longer before John pulled out and came over Sherlock's thighs, cursing as he rocked his hips and rode out the last bit of his orgasm. 

They both stilled, the buzzing in their bodies creating a relaxing sensation that made neither of them want to move. John straightened his back after leaning over to give Sherlock one last lazy kiss, and cringed as he felt the aching in his shoulder. The detective noticed his friend's discomfort and leaned forward to rest his head on the doctor's shoulder. “Thank you, John.”

“Don't thank me.”

“I want to.”

“What if I don't come back around again? What if I get cold feet like I did the last time something happened?” Sherlock lifted his head and stared into John's eyes.

“Then I will wait until you decide to return again, and we can have more crazy sex.” They both laughed and kissed again. Sherlock was becoming very obsessed with John's kisses – the way they felt, how it turned both of them into a couple of hormonal teenagers, the hope that they brought into the detective's mind. John kept returning to him even after all of the awkwardness, and he was still there, even if he was on and off constantly. It was a painful way to love someone, knowing that they may not be back, or that they may in fact stay, but the detective had become so intoxicated and spoiled that he couldn't live without it. John Watson had become his new drug, and after this afternoon he was going to need another fix soon.


End file.
